


left on read.

by sncwbaz



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell, Simon Snow & Related Fandoms
Genre: Carry On Countdown (Simon Snow), Character Study, Late Night texts, M/M, a little fluff, before wayward son (probably?), low key angst, many feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-29
Updated: 2020-11-29
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:22:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27783682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sncwbaz/pseuds/sncwbaz
Summary: Baz stared at the texts long enough that his screen almost turned to black again. He was about to close out of the app when a tiny speech bubble with moving dots appeared at the bottom of the chat. It took him a moment and a held breath to figure out what this meant. Simon was typing.__Baz can't sleep and decides that reading through past text conversations he's had with Simon is a good way to spend the very early ours of the morning. Things get interesting when he suddenly sees that Simon is typing something. At 3am.This was written for the Carry On Countdown prompt: sleepless.
Relationships: Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch & Simon Snow, Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Comments: 6
Kudos: 81
Collections: Carry On Countdown 2020





	left on read.

**Author's Note:**

> Once a year I rise from the ashes to write a fic for the Carry On Countdown. This time about troubled boys and their unexpected late night texts. I hope you enjoy.

He felt stupid about it, but there were times when Baz missed the Watford catacombs. He specifically missed them as he lay awake at unreasonable hours, with his head full of worries. He knew it wasn’t a good place to long back to. Not a good time in his life to long back to, either. However, it had been nice to have a place to retreat to when the voices in his head wouldn’t quiet down. It had been a good place to feel lonely; in the catacombs his loneliness just became part of the scenery, whereas in his London flat it turned the air so heavy that he felt constantly weighted down. 

It had been good to have a physical place to put his emotions. Now that he lacked such a place, he resulted to outsmarting and outrunning all the feelings and thoughts that tugged at him. 

Baz rolled over in his bed and reached for his phone, that he unwisely kept on his nightstand where it could act as a perfect distraction from sleeping. He knew he wasn’t sleeping tonight anyway, though, so it didn’t matter if the brightness of his phone screen kept him further from a proper night’s rest. If he found himself feeling nostalgic to his angst-ridden days at Watford, then he truly was in a bad place. 

He unlocked his phone and, without much thought, found his way to his text conversation with Simon. The conversation was mostly one-sided, as had been normal the last few months. Both with texting and real life conversations. Most of the texts were Baz asking Simon practical questions: If he wanted something from from supermarket (butter), if Baz should come over on Friday to cook dinner for him (sure), if Simon wanted back his hoodie that he’d left at Baz’s flat way back when (no answer).

Looking at the text only made Baz feel lonelier, but he still clung to them like they were a life line. Simon was still there, just… less. 

Baz scrolled all the way down again, to the last text he’d sent Simon the previous evening. 

**Baz (21:39)** \- Will you let me know if you need anything from me? 

He’d sent this unprompted. The fact that it had gone unanswered was answer enough for Baz. Simon wouldn’t ask for help, which left Baz with a permanent furrowed brow. 

Baz stared at the texts long enough that his screen almost turned to black again. He was about to close out of the app when a tiny speech bubble with moving dots appeared at the bottom of the chat. It took him a moment and a held breath to figure out what this meant. Simon was typing. 

Simon was awake, with his chat to Baz open. And Simon was typing. 

Baz’s heart was suddenly racing. He sat up in bed as he waited for Simon to finish typing. 

But then the speech bubble disappeared, and no text followed. Baz waited for a bit, but nothing came. Baz considered the option that he might have imagined the little speech bubble, but his breathlessness told him otherwise. 

Even more awake than before, Baz kept staring at his lit phone screen. 

_Will you let me know if you need anything from me?_

What if Simon had been trying? Baz decided to bite the bullet and typed out a message himself.

**Baz (03:12)** \- Hey, are you awake?

The longer he waited for an answer, the more he regretted sending the text in the first place. Something in Baz kept telling him that he shouldn’t push Simon. That he should follow the pace Simon set for them. That he shouldn’t ask more questions than Simon would have the energy to answer. That he shouldn’t want more from Simon than Simon was willing to give. 

But he felt alone and sad, and his inability to reach Simon was eating at him more than the voice that told him that he should leave Simon alone. 

When Baz almost lost hope that Simon would reply, the little speech bubble with the moving dots reappeared, causing Baz to still completely. 

This time the speech bubble really did turn into an actual message. 

**Simon (03:29)** \- Yeah

It wasn’t much—barely a word—but it was something. Baz took a few deep breaths, and decided to take Simon’s short reply as an invitation. 

**Baz (03:30)** \- What’s keeping you awake?

Baz’s heart did a leap as Simon started typing back almost instantly. Simon had been typing for a while, but Baz only got a one word reply. 

**Simon (03:32)** \- Caffeine

Baz snorted despite himself. Considering the time it had taken Simon to type such a short message, it had probably gone through many revisions. Baz knew he wasn’t getting the full truth. However, it was an answer nonetheless, which was more than Baz could have hoped for. 

Baz lay back down in bed, and wondered shortly how to follow up on Simon’s text, but he didn’t get the chance to come up with anything.

**Simon (03:32)** \- What’s keeping you awake? 

**Baz (03:33)** \- My head won’t quiet down. It’s full with uni stuff.

Baz contemplated for a moment before sending an additional message, his fingers shaking with adrenaline as he pressed send. 

**Baz (03:33)** \- And you.

**Simon (03:34)** \- Oh

**Baz (03:34)** \- Yeah.

Baz couldn’t stand the idea of allowing a silence to fall between them at this moment, so he continued typing. 

**Baz (03:34)** \- Perhaps I was missing you

**Simon (03:35)** \- You were here yesterday

**Baz (03:35)** \- Well, yes. You’re saying you don’t miss me after not seeing me for a single day?

**Simon (03:35)** \- Don’t be ridiculous

**Baz (03:36)** \- And how exactly am I being ridiculous?

**Simon (03:36)** \- I always miss you. 

Something stilled in Baz. He didn’t know if it was his heart, or simply his breathing. 

**Baz (03:36)** \- You don’t have to, you know.

**Baz (03:36)** \- I mean

**Baz (03:36)** \- You can always reach out to me when you miss me.

**Simon (03:37)** \- Okay

**Simon (03:37)** \- I think I know that

**Baz (03:37)** \- You *think* you know? 

**Simon (03:37)** \- Things aren’t always clear in my head. Not used to thinking. It’s tiring. 

**Simon (03:38)** \- I used to be better at not thinking. 

Baz felt at a loss for words here. He felt like Simon was finally saying things to him—really saying things. He was finally showing him a little of what was going on in his head, and Baz didn’t know what to do with it. His inability to act as proper support for Simon left him feeling hollowed out. 

In a panic of not knowing what to reply he ended up pressing the call button. If he couldn’t find the words to comfort Simon, then he at least wanted Simon to know that he was really there with him.

The call got denied within seconds. 

**Simon (03:39)** \- Did you mean to call? 

**Baz (03:39)** \- Yeah.

**Simon (03:39)** \- Oh right. It made me jump. Sorry. 

And then a call came in from Simon. 

“Hey,” Baz said as he answered the call. 

“Hey,” Simon’s voice sounded, cracking through the speakers of Baz’s phone. 

“I figured listening to me could maybe help you a little with the thinking problem?” 

“You sound unsure.”

“I am unsure.” Baz sighed. “I just didn’t want you to think that my silence would mean that I was leaving you on read. I’m here with you even if I don’t know what to say.” 

Simon makes a snorting sound at that. 

“Are you laughing at me, Snow?” 

“You don’t seem like someone who’d have trouble with finding things to say.” Simon’s voice had a sleepy kind of roughness to it, over the phone like this. Baz melted a little at the sound of it. 

“I do when I want the things I say to mean something.” 

“Oh, okay.” 

“Yeah.”

A silence fell. 

“I think I’m getting sleepy,” Simon said after a while. 

“I can stay on the phone until you fall asleep, if you want?”

“Really?” 

“Of course,” Baz said, soft enough that it could almost pass as a whisper. 

“Won’t it be weird?”

“I don’t know, Snow. Won’t it be?” 

Simon made a huffing sound, which Baz guessed was the audible version of a shrug. 

“Maybe it’s better if we hang up. What if the call stays on the entire night?”

Baz couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed. “Yeah, okay.”

“Okay.”

They were quiet for another moment. 

“Well, good night then, Simon.”

“Good night,” Simon said back, and Baz thought he could hear a smile in Simon’s words. Though, maybe it was just wishful thinking. 

“See you tomorrow, right?” 

“Right.”

“Okay. Good.” 

Another silence fell. Baz had already firmly decided that he wouldn’t be the one to hang up. 

“Okay, bye then,” Simon said.

“Bye, love,” Baz whispered back and Simon ended the call. 

The feeling that spread out from Baz’s chest to his throat was one he couldn’t quite understand. He was happy. Simon had properly talked to him for what felt like the first time in ages. Yet he felt heavy in a way that came too close to dread.

He wondered if the conversation they’d had just now would change anything between them when Baz visited him tomorrow. He wondered if anything about Simon’s state would be improved tomorrow. If Simon would come greet him and kiss him at the door when he arrived. If Simon would talk about his day and actually listen while Baz told him about his. 

But the heavy feeling in his chest told him not to hope. Simon was not okay, that much was clear. And Baz didn’t really know how to help him, that was clear too. But maybe, he’d made Simon understand that he would still be there for him, even if he didn’t really know how to, and maybe that was a good start.

**Author's Note:**

> Bolding their name for every text they sent in this fic was a pain, and I don't even know if it was worth it. I'm about as sleep deprived as Simon and Baz are in this fic so I'm very sorry if there were any mistakes in it that I didn't catch. ("Anna u should use beta readers" I know I'm sorry.) 
> 
> ANYWAY, I hope you enjoyed your time reading this fic. Any comments/kudos are deeply appreciated (I swear any validation will make me weep of joy.)
> 
> Well, bye folks. Until next year (probably). 
> 
> (Also u can find me on tumblr under the same username: @sncwbaz)


End file.
